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I am the wife of the capital city’s esteemed tycoon. We were married in secret for three years. At the celebratory banquet, I was about to make our relationship public. However, his first love, Juvelia Shaw, stumbled into the hall clutching her torn collar. “Edwin, save me! Peri Sanders brought along her penniless brother. He just forced a kiss on me in the lounge! “He says he’s your brother-in-law. If I want to get into the Gough family, I have to please him.... Argh! I have been defiled!” The room fell deathly silent before erupting into a chorus of finger-pointing and curses. They accused me of forcing my brother to assault the esteemed tycoon’s woman just to secure his favor. Edwin Gough’s eyes blazed crimson. He ripped off his coat and wrapped it tightly around Juvelia. Then, he flung a glass of red wine at my face. Gritting his teeth, he glared at me. “Peri, bring out that beast of a brother of yours!” “Since his mouth is so vile, let’s pull out his teeth and cut his tongue off to feed the dogs! Otherwise, I’ll make the entire Sanders family pay with their lives!” Amidst the crowd’s looks of contempt and disgust, I burst into laughter. My brother had long since lost his voice. Three years ago, in a fire, he had inhaled excessive smoke while saving Edwin, which had destroyed his vocal cords. His tongue was gone too.

At my engagement banquet, a student sponsored by my fiancé sneaked drugs into a wine glass. To save my meticulously planned event, I quietly had a servant replace the glass. But then, the student and a notorious playboy had a scandalous encounter. A video leaked. Her reputation was ruined, and she jumped to her death. Then my refined fiancé forced me to kneel at her grave and tortured me to death with drugs. Only then did I learn she was his lifelong love. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the engagement banquet.

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

My husband died in a fire trying to save me, leaving behind a mountain of debt and a newborn child. I worked hard to pay off the debt while raising the child, only to unintentionally discover that my husband hadn’t died at all. Instead, he was sleeping with my cousin. “Honey, you’re so clever. You transferred all the company funds and faked your death, leaving that stupid wife of yours to shoulder all the debt. “She’s so clueless that she doesn’t even realize the son she’s raising isn’t hers, that I swapped him out. Once she’s done paying off the debts, the three of us can live a great life together.” I silently sneered, pretending I knew nothing, and continued to raise the child. Twenty years later, my son returned home after studying abroad. The company went public in New York. On the day of the IPO, my cousin appeared arm in arm with my husband, holding a paternity test. “Claire, your husband never died. We’ve been together all these years. Alex is my son. Now that you’ve been his mother for so long, isn’t it time to return him to me?” My husband also presented a divorce agreement. “I built this company from scratch. It’s premarital property. Sign the divorce papers, walk away with nothing, and you can leave now.” I smiled and told him, “I’ve prepared a special gift for you too. I wonder if you’ll like it."

I am heading to my job interview when my close friend, Thomas Lang—the same guy who always cautions me about meddling in other people's business—suddenly throws caution to the wind and sprints toward the wrecked limousine. I instantly realize that Thomas has been reborn, too. In my past life, Thomas and I were the top two graduates of the finance department, both making it to the final round of interviews at a Fortune 500 conglomerate. Yet, on the day of the interview, we suddenly came across the CEO, Ruth Gibson, who had just gotten involved in a car crash. I abandoned the interview to save her, while Thomas hurried off to the interview. In the end, Thomas landed the offer, while I lost my shot at working at the top conglomerate. I received sympathy from everyone around me. However, Ruth sought me out eventually, and in the spirit of profound gratitude, she presented me with an immediate proposal of marriage. I became the man who would marry Thomas' superior, achieving incredible status overnight. Meanwhile, Thomas stayed an ordinary worker, perpetually crushed by impossible metrics and corporate pressure. I was enjoying the heights of my privilege at the annual dinner, standing beside Ruth, while Thomas lurked in the background. He was a miserable face lost among the nameless guests. Consumed by jealousy, he brandished a knife and stabbed me to death right there. I suddenly open my eyes and realize we are both back at this single, pivotal day of Ruth's accident.

Grandpa Arthur Bennett was taken to court after being accused of using violence and coercion to commit rape. Yet I lounged at home, idly scrolling on my phone while watching a livestream. In my previous life, determined to uncover the truth, I had volunteered to serve as the plaintiff’s lawyer and investigated the case in depth. I had even contacted my brother, Ethan Bennett, praised as a genius lawyer, and urged him to defend Grandpa. But he believed the story I told was absurd—a lie meant to stop him, my best friend, and my mom from going on their trip to Moonlake together—and he blocked all my contact information. In the end, Grandpa was sentenced to life in prison and suffered a fatal heart attack in the courtroom. My family believed I had deliberately helped the plaintiff and disregarded my own kin. They blamed Grandpa’s conviction and death on me. When my Mom returned and saw Grandpa’s body, she collapsed in grief. Overcome with emotion, she got into her car and drove it straight into me, killing me. When I awoke with a start, I realized I had returned to three hours before Grandpa was taken to court.

Gilbert Pierce, my wife's male trainee, bragged that he could disarm a bomb just by relying on his senses and with his eyes closed. However, he misjudged it and triggered the bomb's secondary detonation sequence. I stepped in at the last second and used the most dangerous method available, liquid nitrogen flash cooling, to save the entire building. Gilbert was pulled off frontline duty and placed on suspension for review. My wife, Jasmine Clem, tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her cold. "If you defend him now, you won't save him. You'll just get dragged down and suspended alongside him." Unable to handle the pressure, Gilbert blew himself up in an accident. In his suicide note, he accused Jasmine of choosing self-preservation when he needed her most. Jasmine said nothing. She only locked that letter away in her study. Years later, Jasmine became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was captured and strapped with a timed explosive. Jasmine came to the scene personally to defuse it, but right in front of me, she repeated the exact same mistake her trainee had made years ago. She watched the countdown and smiled lightly at me. "See? He was just nervous back then. If I had encouraged him, he'd be a hero now." The bomb detonated, and I was blown apart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was about to defend Gilbert. She didn't know that inside that building sat the nation's most classified core servers.

When my mother-in-law has a heart attack, my husband, who's a heart surgeon, is busy preparing food for his first love's cat. I call him and urge him to return to save my mother-in-law. He says icily, "What is wrong with you, Esther? How dare you curse my mother just to make me head home!" After that, he hangs up. My mother-in-law dies in surgery, yet he's busy watching a concert with his first love. When he returns the following day to see me holding an urn, he's so angry that he throws the bag he's holding at me. "Look at how Lexie was considerate enough to buy clothes for my mother. All you know how to do is get Mom to pull these dumb acts with you!" I sneer. His mother is already dead—what use are those clothes?

For ten years, I raised the finest bodyguard money could buy, and for a nanny's daughter, he turned his blade on me. I didn't spare a thought for the years between us. I had his tendons cut, his skills stripped away, and I threw him out of Meridian City. The live comments practically caught fire. [Somebody help, Celeste Ward has gone too far! Julian protected her for ten years, and the one time he didn't put her first, she's going to ruin him?] [This is the kind of love that terrifies me — if she can't have him, she'd rather destroy him. What did Julian even do wrong, trying to save the woman he loves?] [Run, Julian! A viper like her doesn't deserve your loyalty. Go to Amber — she's the one who can actually save you!] Me? Going too far? A traitor who turns on his own mistress for an outsider — if anything, I went easy on him. I gave a cold laugh, tore up his lifetime contract in front of everyone, and had every last one of his belongings burned. Then I went straight to the underground fight club and picked out the meanest, most reckless guy I could find. A month later, word reached Julian. He fought his way through every guard at my gate, half-dead by the time he made it to the door. He dropped to his knees in front of me, eyes rimmed red, clutching the hem of my skirt. "Miss Ward," he said, "that mongrel covered in tattoos — what does he have that I don't?"

My name is Sophia Colombo. I am the youngest daughter of the Colombo family, one of Newarke City's most powerful Mafia dynasties. My father is the Don, and my three older brothers control most of the family's operations across the Rooklyn, Kings, and Canhatte boroughs. On the Veste Coast district, the name Colombo commands power and fear. My best friend, Jennifer, always says I've been too sheltered by my family, that I can't see through a man's lies or schemes. She even offered to "help" me put that to the test. So, under the guise of looking out for me, she seduced my fiancé. After winning him over, she stood there, smug and self-satisfied, watching me like I was the punchline to a joke. "I told you—you're too naive," she said. "Those men are all cunning and full of tricks. If it weren't for me, you'd have been fooled into tears a hundred times over." I was furious—so angry I could barely breathe—but I couldn't find a single word to argue back. This time, I chose my fiancé in secret, keeping it from her entirely. He was the heir to the Lucia family. And just as I expected, the moment she found out… she made her move again. What she didn't know was that this fiancé was someone I had carefully prepared… just for her.